


Fire to the Skin

by Jerevinan



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: (more like godfather Cor), Angst, Canon-Typical Violence, Cor and Iris join chocobros AU, Dad!Cor, Grief/Mourning, Motorcycles, Road Trips, background pairings/heavier focus on story
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-08-30
Updated: 2018-02-06
Packaged: 2018-12-21 20:20:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 9
Words: 18,103
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11951892
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jerevinan/pseuds/Jerevinan
Summary: After the fall of Insomnia, Cor takes two parts of Clarus with him. One his old friend’s motorcycle, and the other is his daughter.Cor and Iris join the chocobros on their roadtrip, and Cor unofficially adopts four adults and one teenager.





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

  * For [yodepalma](https://archiveofourown.org/users/yodepalma/gifts).



> I've been talking about this AU for about a month now on my tumblr, but it's been on my mind for longer. Rating might change and some pairings might be added later depending on how the story progresses. Also, big shout out to yodepalma for encouraging this and feeding the ideas!
> 
> Here's the (really short) prologue!

**Cor**

Clarus didn’t wear his council robes. For the first time in years, he sported jeans and a tee, all tailored to his figure—the sort of attire he could be seen wearing when he went riding his motorcycle through Insomnia’s streets up until his wife’s death. With only help from Jared in caring for his children, his riding days had simmered to an end. 

Cor suspected the lack of a riding partner had played a role in the retirement of the bike as well. Clarus had been known to take his wife on motorcycle dates once a month. It had been something of a tradition for the two, and Cor would even look after Gladiolus on those special occasions.

The motorcycle looked as pristine as one sitting at the dealership, waxed and oiled and ready for a ride into the sunset. Clarus parked her against the curb in the courtyard.

“What do you think?” asked Clarus.

“I think it’s been a long time since I’ve seen you on a motorcycle.”

Clarus dangled the keys of the motorcycle in front of Cor. “The last time, too. She’s yours.”

Words of a man who knew he wouldn’t be alive to take her back, who would die beside his king. He couldn’t fool Cor. They had been through too many battles, and Clarus always fought with energy behind the great swings of his sword. Sometimes he would laugh as he took down a pack of sabertusks. But there were no traces of mirth on his face this time.

Cor had only ever seen Clarus so grim before and after the trial of Gilgamesh and during his wife’s death. 

“I need you to look out for them.” Clarus' voice held firm, but a flash of sadness swept over his face before he frowned it away. “Take care of Mildred, too.”

Cor had never heard the motorcycle’s name. “Mildred, huh?”

“She’ll serve you well if you should need to evacuate the citizens.”

Cor swallowed down the desire to wrestle Clarus into changing his post. The signing ceremony would only be a few hours from then. The sun shined bright and blinding, the air fresh with only a slight chill. It seemed like an ordinary morning but for the fear gnawing in their guts. No amount of training and experience could ever make them accept the possibility of death.

“Take care, my friend,” said Clarus, setting a palm on Cor’s shoulder.

Cor opened his mouth to exchange the same blessing before he considered its uselessness. 

“Fight well,” he opted for instead.

“I’ll give it my damn best.”

The two exchanged grins, the feistiness of their youths returning if only to spark each other down the paths they had been assigned.


	2. Chapter One

**Cor**

Not far outside of Insomnia, under the cover of a bridge, Cor parked the motorcycle. Dustin pulled up to the curb behind him. 

Their small group gathered around the car, Monica smoothing out a map against the hood of the vehicle. 

“I’m going to Hammerhead,” said Cor. He considered their numbers and how best to split them up. One child, a teenager, an old man, and two of his Crownsguard members. Jared was in no condition to fight. He hadn’t been for quite some years. He remained seated in the back of Dustin’s car with his grandson, listening out the open door. Talcott was too young—even by Cor’s standards—and didn’t know how to wield any weapons. Both would require a capable escort.

“Dustin, I want you to take Jared, Talcott, and Iris to Lestallum,” said Cor. “The Empire will start closing roads out of Leide to find Noctis. You need to be out of here before then. Monica, when we refuel in Hammerhead, I want you to stay behind and help me.”

“Are you meeting up with Noct?” asked Iris as she leaned against the trunk of the car.

Cor didn’t say anything, which was as good as answering “yes”—Iris narrowed her eyes on him in a way that resembled her father.

“I want to go with you.”

“No.”

“I can fight.”

“Iris,” said Jared. Once he had her attention, he continued. “Your father would wish you to go onto Lestallum with us.”

“And do _nothing?_ That’s not how my father thinks—thought.” Iris sucked in a tight breath, her eyes glassy. 

“That’s exactly like how a father would think with his daughter,” said Cor, having watched Clarus, Regis, and even Cid with their children. He didn’t have to have his own brood to know a decent parent desired to protect their offspring and would act on those feelings until their kids were too old to listen. Clarus had no choice but to see Gladiolus off on his journey with Noctis, but he would have wanted Iris to stay young a little longer—if only by a few more days or weeks.

“You know I can fight, Cor.”

“You need more experie—”

An airship passed overhead and cut Cor off. No doubt it would be on its way to Insomnia, where the Empire had already annexed the gates into the city. 

Cor waited for the ship to pass, but the roar of engines remained loud in his ears. Not unexpected to deal with uninvited company, but Cor had hoped the bridge would hide their presence better.

“Dustin, Monica!”

Cor, Dustin, and Monica lined up to face one end of the bridge as magitek troopers dropped in formed lines to block the road. 

“Keep them away from the car!”

Cor learned years ago to dread the sound of armor clanking as it hit the cement. These troopers didn’t have human qualities in their jerky movements, in the tilt of their heads. They only resembled people in shape. Once they had reorganized on the ground, their fighting style was mechanical and merciless. How did they know who to fight? Was it the heat of Lucian blood, so different from the men and women who fought for Niflheim? 

It didn’t matter. The magitek threat existed and had to be exterminated. With precise strikes of his katana, Cor sliced them until they bleed a dark green—almost black—on the pavement. He cut off heads and let them roll, disembodied eyes staring up at him before they fizzled away. 

Cor and his subordinates could handle themselves, but then a second airship swooped in and deposited another wave of troopers on the ground. His skin felt hot beneath his black Crownsguard fatigues. He swung his katana from shoulder to hip through one of the troopers before pivoting around to confront another.

He had to still his sword before he attacked. Iris had joined the fray. She popped up with ease onto the magitek, hands gripped around the shoulders. Her foot kicked up, dislodging the torso from the legs with one swift movement. She bounced away, making a smooth landing on the ground as the armor crumbled to the ground.

That might’ve been impressive on its own, but Cor caught the smile on her face before both were forced to turn and confront three more troopers. Iris had no trouble dissembling the infantrymen; she _enjoyed_ the battle. Cor dared a few glimpses in her direction after he had sliced through another wave of magitek. What she lacked in experience, she made up for in spirit. 

When the road had been cleared again several minutes later, Cor made a choice in that moment that might have upset his late friend.

“You can come with me,” he told Iris.

Iris grinned, but before she could react, Jared’s cane tapped against the ground. The severity in his eyes could have made any Crownsguard member tremble twenty years ago. As an old man, he didn’t pose much of a threat.

“Cor! She’s only fifteen.”

“Only?” The corner of Cor’s lip twitched. 

Jared narrowed his eyes. “Remember your indiscretions at such a young age.”

“More reason to keep an eye on her,” said Cor. “Mentor her.” The Crownsguard training facilities could only offer so many lessons. Real combat and the world outside of Insomnia were opportunities for growth. 

“I forbid it,” said Jared. “You don’t have room for her. It might be a bit cramped in the backseat, but all you have is a motorcycle—and not even one helmet to spare.”

“I’ll be fine, Jared.” Iris leaned in and gave him a soft kiss on the cheek. “Thank you for worrying about me, but this is what I want to do.”

Jared’s stern gaze did not lessen, but he tucked his cane back into the car. “Very well. Cor, I’ll hold you personally responsible for her wellbeing. I hope to see you in Lestallum soon. Take care of these children.” 

Cor gave Jared one solemn nod before the door shut and Dustin drove off toward Hammerhead. The sun reflected from the hood of the vehicle once they were out from under the bridge, and soon it was too bright to see the vehicle. 

There would be one gate near the Crestholm channels that might have troopers stationed there, but Dustin and Monica would manage on their own. 

Cor turned to his old friend’s daughter.

Iris’ smile had vanished. In whatever moments had passed, the grief that they had all been distracted from returned. She stood rigid, fighting against the oncoming tide of emotions.

“I’ll do what you tell me to,” she said, her fingers curled into fists at her side. 

“That’s one promise you’ve already broken.” He let out a soft snort of laughter. “I won’t ask you to stay out of trouble, just that you survive it. I owe your father too great a debt to let anything happen to you.”

Her eyes watered, but she grinned at him. “Okay.”

Cor mounted the motorcycle and nodded behind him. “Get on. We’ve got a lot of work to do.”

~*~

**Iris**

The wind against Iris’ face dried her tears and roared over her sobs. She latched onto Cor and let the incoming rain storm blow away her grief. 

They beat the rain to Hammerhead. Cor kicked down the side stand under the awning in front of the shop a mere second before sheets of rain broke from the sky. Iris hopped off and swallowed down the lump in her throat. Her eyes were dry and ached.

“I’m going in to get some eye drops,” she said.

“Wait.” Cor dug into his pocket and pulled out an unfamiliar currency—a few notes and coins. “Gil. They don’t use credits outside the city.”

“Oh.”

“There’s enough there for food. There’s a diner there, Takka’s a decent cook.” Cor pointed to an establishment next door that had been half-hidden in the curtain of rain.

Iris curled her hands around the gil and held it to her chest. “Thanks, Cor.”

“I’ll be in the garage, talking to Cid.”

Cid. She had heard the name before, but she had never once met the man. Her father had told her stories about his old friends. The trips they took, the places they had seen together. She had forgotten Hammerhead had been his family business.

She tried the shop first. It offered food and car supplies, along with a few basic healing items. A fan oscillated, blowing around the thick, humid air.

“Anything I can help you find?” asked the man behind the counter.

“Eye drops?” 

“Oh, I’m afraid we only have a couple of vials left. They’re in back—how many do you want?”

“I’ll take two.”

As the worker stepped into the storage room, Iris wandered around the displays. She noted a rack of sunglasses. Those might help, too, in keeping out the sun and dust. She tried on a few pairs, using her reflection in the window to see how they looked. She tilted her head back and forth until she found a pair she liked. She checked the tag and then sifted through the money Cor had given her. Gil seemed like a simple enough system. No seven-gil coins or anything complex that would have made her fumble at the register—everything counted in tens and hundreds. 

Cor had given her enough money for food, too, but she wasn’t hungry. Her stomach had taken to a diet of uneasiness and anger. Somewhere in the Citadel, her father lay unburied alongside the King. Her brother should have been on his way to Altissia with Noctis. Had they made it yet? Would they hear about Insomnia soon?

The worker stepped out from the back room, and the door closing startled her. He smiled at her and waved two boxes of eye drops. 

“I’ll take these, too,” said Iris, setting the sunglasses on the counter.

Once she had paid and added a few drops to her eyes, she wandered outside again. Did she try the garage, or should she at least attempt to eat something? It could be ages before she got another meal, and her father wouldn’t want her to starve. 

She sighed and took a bracing step toward the diner, arms over her head to shield her from the rain. 

~*~

**Cor**

Cor leaned against the inside of the garage at Hammerhead. Cid stared at a hammer—one that seemed familiar to Cor—as reports from the city flooded in. Between the static and the rain, Cor could only make out some of the news. 

“Damnit, Reggie,” said Cid, words forged with temper and sadness. “Calls me up outta the blue and tells me to help his son ‘cos he’s leaving the city. Didn’t say nothin’ about dying.” He lifted his gaze to Cor. “Hurts, doesn’t it?”

Cor gave one stiff nod. It hadn’t sunk in. Even though he prepared for it. Even though Clarus had warned him. Even though Cor had snuck back into the Citadel after, to see if the reports were true and give his friends some final dignity.

He gripped his set of keys in his palm so tight the metal hurt against the skin. 

“How’s Clarus’ girl doing?”

“Surviving.”

Cid grunted. “Guess that’s the best we can ask for right now. What do you have to do next?”

“Wait for Noctis to get in touch.” Cor opened his palm and stared at the red and raw marks his keys’ teeth left. “Noctis needs to visit the tombs. I should set out for Keycatrich soon. Think you can spare a car for Monica?”

“Anything you need, Cor.” 

Cor had expected an objection, to have to wrangle Cid into a set of keys for one of the old clunkers parked on the side of the garage. This compliance hurt almost as bad as the losses that had caused it.

The phone in his pocket buzzed. Cor dug it out and glanced at the incoming call.

“It’s Noctis.” He had expected it, but it didn’t stop him from being relieved. He picked up.

“H-hello?” Pause. “Cor?”

“So, you made it.” 

“The hell’s going on?”

“Where are you?” The most important part—getting an idea of the prince’s location. Nothing had gone as planned, and if Noctis was already on his way to Altissia…

“Outside the city, with no way back in.”

“Makes sense.” Cor’s run-in with magitek troopers would have only been the beginning of closing off the city.

“‘Makes sense’? Are you serious? What about any of this makes sense? The news just told me I’m dead—along with my father and Luna.”

“Listen. I’m in Hammerhead.” 

Noctis made a short, exasperated sound. Cor stared at the garage wall. How much should he tell Noctis? Not much, not over the phone. But it didn’t sit right to delay the worst truth.

“About the king… It’s true.”

Given the noise on the other end of the line, Noctis hadn’t wanted to hear it. Cor couldn’t lie, couldn’t give the boy any reassurance. He had gone back in the night, even though he should have been proceeding with more evacuations, and found Clarus impaled to the wall of the negotiation room. It had been difficult, but Cor brought him down and rested his old friend on the signing table.

And Regis, crumpled on the ground near the elevator. Cor had checked his pulse and shut his eyes, unable to do anything for him.

“If you’re looking for the whole truth, you know where to find me.” When he didn’t hear anything, he added a firm, “Get moving.”

It took another minute for Noctis to answer. “Right.”

Cor cut the call there, hoping it would prompt the group to hurry on.

“You sure it’s a good idea to meet here?” asked Cid. He didn’t look up from the hammer. One of his fingers traced over the rude words on its handle. “You might want to clear a path to Keycatrich. Don’t forget what happened there.”

How could Cor forget? He had been there, fighting alongside his friends. The region had still been taken over by the Empire despite their efforts.

“Will you send them on their way when they arrive?” asked Cor.

Cid nodded. “Yeah. I’ll do what I can. You takin’ Iris?”

“She’s my responsibility now.”

Cid shook his hammer at Cor. “Take care of her. It’s hard losing a child. Clarus might be dead, but you’re right. She’s your responsibility now.”

“I’m sorry I wasn’t there, when your—”

Cid waved him off, but he tilted his head enough for Cor to see his eyes under the rim of his cap. They were watering.

“Get on with you. Get your ass to Keycatrich.”

“Thank you, Cid.”

Cor didn’t look back when he left. He may not have been able to give Clarus and Regis any dignity, but he could spare Cid’s to walk away when the man wanted to cry.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I altered some of the dialogue over the phone because the timeline was wonky (to me). Cor actually says he’s _headed_ to Hammerhead, but by the time the guys made it, he was already gone… And Hammerhead isn't that far? So I decided to write that he was already there. A lot of what happens in the main story is about to change. I hope it’s for the better.
> 
> Feel free to let me know what you think!


	3. Chapter Two

**Gladiolus**

When the calls to his father’s phone wouldn’t go through, Gladiolus tried his sister. The phone rang four times before she picked up. A fear he had never felt before coiled around him, making his hand tremble—slight, but enough that the grip on his phone threatened to loosen.

“Gladdy?”

He leaned back in his seat and closed his eyes. Thank the Six, she answered. “Iris. Where are you?”

There was a long pause. “I’m with Cor.”

“With the marshal? Good. That means you’re safe.” He peeked through the windshield. He could see the shop’s parking lot not too far up ahead on the road. “We’re almost to Hammerhead, guess I’ll see you soon.”

There was a pause, and he heard muttering in the background—nothing he could decipher over the static of the phone. 

“Okay,” said Iris. “See you soon.” The conversation ended before he could say anything more.

“My sister’s with Cor,” said Gladiolus to the others in the car. He tried one last call out to his father, but no answer came. 

He knew it wouldn’t, but he had wanted to give it one last try.

~*~

**Cor**

With Iris’ help, they managed to clear out most of the magitek on their way to the first tomb. There weren’t as many as Cor had anticipated. What a waste to only have a dozen stationed near the trench—why had they bothered with any, when a handful of them were easy to cut through? No one had ever quite figured out how the troopers managed to track anyone or differentiate between friend and foe. Something in their programming. Some secret lying in the hostile landscape of Niflheim, hidden away in one of their many facilities.

The new morning had brought the sun out of hiding. Iris and Cor stayed the night in a camper at the outpost before they set out for Keycatrich. Cor made a note to get Iris a sleeping bag—they wouldn’t always have a place to rent, but it was a safe bet that the havens would be nearby and working for a few years.

Cor dug out the key to the tombs from his pocket. Regis had given it to him years ago, when Noctis was a small boy. Cor didn’t know why until a few days ago. The prophecy. Regis had known for a long time and said nothing, had watched his child grow from a boy to a teenager knowing Noctis’ days were even fewer than the average king’s. How that must have aged Regis all the faster…

“This place is kind of creepy,” said Iris.

“It’s the wind, blowing through the trench.” Howling of wind and beasts—not uncommon for the trench or any place like it. Leide was full of dusty corners and scraps of civilization. “This place has become a popular haunt for large monsters. Keep an eye out for behemoths and coeurls.” 

“Will do.”

Cor placed the key in the old tomb’s lock. The ancient magic nudged to life and opened the stone doors. The light spilled across the monument in the center—a king Cor wouldn’t have known, had never served, but had seen in stone once before as a teenager.

The stench hadn’t changed. Regis had said something about that once: _“You could lock a fart in this place and still smell it ten years later.”_

Memories brought forth figures from the shadows. The ghosts of the past slithered out of his mind and heart. Old voices spoke to Cor.

_“How does the power of kings feel, Regis?”_

_“Ticklish.”_

Cor hadn’t laughed back then, but this time he did. The sound echoed back at him in mockery.

“What?” asked Iris, popping her head into the tomb. “What’s funny?”

“I remembered something Clarus and Regis said our first time here.”

“Oh.” She circled the monument. “Dad told me a little bit about your road trip. That was thirty years ago, right?”

“Yes. Every successor must take one to acquire the power of kings.” 

“And now it’s Noct’s turn.”

“Yes.”

Iris tapped her fingers on the edge of the monument. “They weren’t all kings. Some were queens.”

Cor smirked. “Yes.”

“How many tombs are there?”

“I know of a few, but I’ll send Monica to scout for more. They’re spread across Eos, but many have been lost to time, weather, and raiding. I know the locations of the ones King Regis visited.”

Cor had been one of five back in those days—younger than even Noctis and Prompto, but the other four had been much older. The group had encountered myriad difficulties. Together, they had survived. It would be Noctis’ group’s turn, now. But how could he send only the four of them out into the world when all of them were still green? The boys needed guidance. 

Iris would require more experience, too, but he had a feeling she was more up to facing it than even her brother. The weight of being a shield did not burden her as it did Gladiolus.

“They’ll get here soon, won’t they?” asked Iris.

“Cid called me this morning and said they’re on their way. It shouldn’t be long.” 

Despite that Cor expected them within an hour, it took three. Iris sat at the feet of one of the monuments along the wall and played on her phone for twenty minutes before stepping outside. Cor went with her. Not that he was worried about her. Not that he gnashed his teeth together while she climbed to the top of the tomb and perched there as an outlook.

The sun heated his uniform. Black, always black—not that he would have wanted to wear any other color. But it was hot, and the nearby rocks weren’t tall enough to provide sufficient shade.

“I see them!” Iris swung down to the ground. Before Cor could ask her how far, she had taken off down the path to meet them at the pillars a few yards away. She flung her arms around her brother. “Gladdy! It’s so good to see you!”

Gladiolus greeted Cor with a nod. “You’re a tough man to track. We expected to see you in Hammerhead.”

“Come,” said Cor, returning to the inside of the tomb. The group followed behind him. 

“Marshal?” asked Ignis. 

“Wanna tell me what I’m here for?” asked Noctis, his eyes on the weapon held within the tomb.

“The power of kings, passed from the old to the new through the bonding of souls.” Cor said every word loud and clear, the words echoing in the chamber. He gestured to the resting king and his sword. “One such soul lies before you. To claim your forebears’ power is your birthright and duty as king.”

Still Noctis did not look at him. “My duty as king of what?”

Not an unexpected reaction, but one Cor didn’t feel they had time for—not until they could make it out of Leide, where blockades were forming on the roads.

“Now is not the time to question your calling.” Cor was briefly interrupted by a displeased noise from Noctis and raised his voice to speak over any possible disagreement. “A king is sworn to protect his people.”

“And yet he chose to protect only one prince. Was that his calling? Forsake the masses to spare his own son?”

No, Cor would not stand for that level of disrespect. Cor loved Noctis as he had loved Regis—had taken him out fishing as a boy, where they sat on the quiet docks and said nothing while the water lapped against the rocks. But fondness aside, it was not the time or the place for any of them to mourn. Not _yet_.

“How long will you remain the protected? The king entrusted the role of protector to you.” 

“‘Entrusted’ it to me? Then why didn’t he tell me that?” Noctis’ anger bubbled out to the surface. He slammed his hand down on the monument before him. “Why did he stand there smiling as I left? Why—” His voice choked, lips trembling. He slumped down, his voice shaking. “Why did he lie to me?”

None of the others could look at Cor, and none of them looked at Noctis either. It hurt. Not one of them in the room felt anything but a hollow ache for their comrades and family who had fallen that night in Insomnia. 

“That day, he didn’t want you to remember him as the king,” said Cor. “In what time you had left, he wanted to be your father.” 

Noctis hissed breaths through his sobs, his tears pattering against the stonework. Cor’s gaze softened. There had been a time when Noctis—years and years younger—had tried not to cry because his father was unable to make it to dinner or one of his school events. Before he could weep, Cor had swept him into a hug. They had both known Regis had to be a king first, a father second. 

But a hug would not mend this, and Noctis was no longer six years old.

“He always had faith in you, that when the time came, you would ascend for the sake of your people.” 

Noctis straightened up slowly. “Guess he left me no choice.” 

No, none of them had ever had a choice. Not even Regis.

Noctis extended an arm, the determined fire in his eyes a good sign that Regis had been right. Noctis did not run from his duty. He had skipped out on it sometimes, as little princes often did. Regis claimed to have had a streak of mischief as a boy. What child didn’t? But they were adults in that room—even Iris, in many ways. 

Prepared or not, they would need to face their fates.

The soul of the Lucian king in the tomb must have known that, for the sword shined and released crystals of light as it released from its magic bindings. Cor continued to watch even as the others shielded their eyes. The sword raised high like an icicle and pierced through Noctis’ chest. Cor suspected it hadn’t been without pain, but like Regis, he gritted his teeth and allowed the magic to test him. The new arm spun around in the armiger around Noctis, a promise and a threat. 

Noctis had been accepted as the new king.

“The power of kings goes with you, Your Majesty.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I noticed Gladio tried to call someone while Noctis contacted Cor (who was Noct's first call, that breaks my heart a bit for reasons). Afterward, Gladio asked about the king—and I think that was his way of indirectly seeking answers about his father. Maybe I’m grasping at straws. Maybe I’m not. Still, this story isn’t about what was in canon, it’s more about what I wish had been in canon.
> 
> I hope I won’t have to have too much repetitive dialogue. I wasn’t sure how to skip that scene without it seeming crucial? Like, yeah, we’ve all heard it, but it's significant. If I gloss over too much, it seems kind of lazy. :/


	4. Chapter Three

**Gladiolus**

Gladiolus saw the motorcycle sitting under the awning and his heart reached his throat. Tears welled up in his eyes before he could stop them. Mildred. The last time he had laid eyes on her without the tarp on, Clarus had taken him on a ride following his mother’s death. The two stopped at a few of Thalia’s favorite places, tracing the steps of a woman they had both loved and missed dearly.

Iris latched onto his arm and leaned her head against him, a soothing presence. 

“It was a bit of a shock when Cor rode up on her as we were evacuating,” she admitted. “Millie’s a little piece of Mom and Dad.”

Wait. “Don’t tell me you’ve been riding on that?” 

Iris peered up at him. “Well, yeah.”

Gladiolus swiped away his tears with the back of his hand and sucked in a deep breath. “From now on, you’re riding in the Regalia with us.”

She rolled her eyes. “Cor’s a safe driver. I’ll be fine.” 

“It’s a death trap.”

Iris broke away from him and took out a pair of sunglasses. She slid them on her face and grinned up at him.

“I’m prepared. I even have eyedrops.”

“Those are big sunglasses. Don’t they make it hard with the helmet?”

“What helmet?”

Gladiolus had five dozen visions invade his mind at once, all of them different scenarios on how easily his sister could die. When he snapped back to reality, he was surprised to find he hadn’t fainted. 

“Nope.”

She snorted. “Cor said it was fine.”

“Correction,” said Cor, coming up behind them. “I said you could come with me. Whether it’s fine or not is up for debate.”

Gladiolus spun around to confront him. “It is _not_ fine.” He folded his arms across his chest. “Did you talk to Monica?”

Cor pointed toward the Norduscaen Blockade. “They’ve already shut the gates, as I suspected. Did you find the tomb?”

“Yes!” said Iris. “They were creepy.”

“Huh, funny. You didn’t seem scared at all.” Gladiolus spent a good twenty minutes in the tunnels holding a shaking Prompto when the power cut, while his sister barreled through trying to find the culprit behind the banging doors. “I suspect you were having fun.”

Iris ignored him and turned to Cor. “How will we get through the blockade?”

“I have a plan,” said Cor. “Where are the others?”

Gladiolus gestured toward the shed nearby. “Back there, playing darts. We gonna rest up, or do we get through the blockade first?”

“We should rest while we can. A few hours of sleep could save our lives. I’ll speak to the others. We can discuss our plans for the morning at camp.” Cor headed for the seating area around the barn before Gladiolus could mention that their tent wouldn’t hold six people.

Gladiolus sighed. He drifted closer to Mildred. The bright lights over the hunter headquarters reflected off her chrome. She looked as good as the days when his parents would take their weekly dates, his mother telling him to behave for Jared or whoever babysat him. Gladiolus rested a palm on one of the handles. 

“Thinking of driving her?” asked Iris, leaning in.

“Nah, don’t have a license. Dad always said he’d show me how to ride her someday…”

“Maybe Cor will teach us.”

“Us? Yeah, I don’t think so. Maybe when you’re older. I didn’t learn to drive a car until I was sixteen. Start with one of those first.” He nodded his head in the direction of the Regalia. He noticed out of the corner of his eye that Cor was returning with the other guys. Good, they needed to figure out camping arrangements soon. He waved at them. “Cor, don’t you need a special license to drive a motorcycle?”

Cor nodded.

“Indeed,” said Ignis, folding his arms across his chest as he scrutinized the bike. His face softened. “Impressive. Her name?”

“Millie,” said Gladiolus and Iris at the same time.

“Mildred,” said Cor.

“Ah. She’s lovely. I wonder what happened to mine. Probably buried amongst the rubble.” Ignis cupped his chin in his fingers and frowned. “What a shame.”

“Wait, you had a bike?” Gladiolus could sort of imagine it. Ignis had always edged a little higher on the speed limit—too subtle for Crown City cops to detect it. His smooth grace when weaving through difficult traffic had always been admirable, and even during jams, Ignis could maintain patience and manage to get somewhere in a timely manner. He was a natural behind the wheel. It made sense he might like motorcycles as well.

“Yes, shortly after I turned eighteen.”

“And you can _drive_ it?” 

“I have a license, Gladio.” Ignis reached toward his back pocket.

“Nah, you don’t have to show me. I get it. When the heck did you learn to drive a motorcycle?” Gladiolus glanced over at Noctis, who looked as puzzled as he felt. “Did you know about this?”

“No way!”

“That’s because you would have asked to ride it. Or worse, _drive_ it.”

Noctis made a face. “Still can’t believe you could, Specs. You don’t seem the type.”

“What gets me is he’s _exactly_ the type,” said Gladiolus, grunting. “I just never realized it before.”

“I didn’t realize there was a _type_ of person for driving a motorcycle.”

“It’s not for everyone.” Gladiolus did not mind riding on one with his father as a child, but he had never been keen on driving when someone else could take the wheel—or the handlebars in this case. 

Noctis moved closer to Ignis. “What’s the _real_ reason you never told us, Specs?”

“It never came up.”

“Does this mean you’ll drive me around on a bike sometime?” The prince’s voice was a lustful purr, enough that Gladiolus raised his eyebrows.

And he noticed Cor raised his, too.

“No one’s riding the bike,” said Cor after a beat. He stepped between the group and Mildred. “Anyone is welcome to ride with me, but Clarus entrusted her care to me.”

“No one?” echoed Prompto, puffing out his cheeks. “Are you sure? I’d love to learn!”

“No one.” Cor’s voice held no room for bargaining. “The motorcycle is the least of anyone’s concern. Let’s get our camping gear set up at the haven and discuss more important things.”

Cor unzipped one of the compartment bags strapped to Mildred and pulled out a tent and a sleeping bag. 

“I don’t suppose you have an extra bedroll?” asked Cor as he unhooked a smaller bag and tossed it over his shoulder. “I only packed one—didn’t know I’d have Iris with me at the time.”

“We should have a spare blanket or two,” said Ignis, taking the keys to the car out of his pocket and handing them to Gladiolus. “One of us can give up ours for her if necessary.”

“I don’t mind.” Gladiolus always slept on top of his unless the temperatures dropped extraordinarily low. 

“Thanks, Gladdy!” said Iris.

“Come on, help me set up the tent.” He grinned at his sister, and her return smile was tender—surely she must have been thinking the same thing as him: a memory of them camping with Clarus as they grew up. When Clarus couldn’t take them, Gladiolus would sometimes set the tent up in the backyard and make all the traditional snacks that went with it.

Gladiolus swallowed the lump in the back of his throat. Even when they had settled their eyes on the airships making their way into Insomnia, when his frantic calls hadn’t come through, he still couldn’t believe his father dead. He half expected Clarus would hunt them down and knock Cor’s head around for letting Iris ride on the back of a motorcycle without a helmet. At the first sign of tears, he’d sweep his children into a giant hug and squeeze them until all three were laughing.

Iris elbowed Gladiolus as he was unlocking the trunk of the Regalia.

“You okay, Gladdy?” she whispered.

“Could use a hug.”

She slid her arms around his side and burrowed against his chest. “I’m still here.”

He kissed the top of her head, the tears rolling down his cheeks finding a resting place in her hair. 

“I’m glad we both are.”

~*~

**Cor**

After one night of camping with the others, Cor learned a lot of things he hadn’t known about Noctis and his friends. Things that maybe he didn’t _want_ or _need_ to know.

For one, he realized Ignis and Noctis were close. The two kids who had always sat in the back of the car giggling as he drove the prince to and from school were a…pair. Intimate. He might have noticed sooner, if he cared to pay any attention to other people’s relationships. But how could he have never realized before? The way those two behaved, they had been established quite some time ago.

Secondly, Gladiolus and Prompto were interested in one another. It was uncomfortable to watch. Cor wasn’t even certain they were _dating_. He had spent time one-on-one with Prompto in the training grounds, so he hadn’t realized how much the kid could blush every time Gladiolus passed. The two teased and grinned and made absolute fools of themselves.

Lastly, Cor regretted agreeing to their sleeping arrangements for the night. Gladiolus asked if he could spend night in Cor’s tent with his little sister. They needed the privacy, and Cor surrendered his to give it to them.

Noctis didn’t hide his sadness in front of others as well as the Amicitia siblings—who were still doing a bit of a rubbish job at disguising their pain. While everyone began to wind down for the evening, Noctis sat at the edge of the haven, boot heels tapping against the stone, and stared off in the direction of Insomnia. No one could see the Crown City from that distance, but Cor didn’t have to ask to know what was on Noctis’ mind.

Cor sat beside him.

“You did well today,” he said. “Two royal arms. Your father would be proud.”

Silence, followed by words almost lost in the cool breeze and the roar of distant daemons. “Yeah.”

Regis used to say the power granted to him had stipulations. When age and strength waned in his body, he no longer had the ability to summon weapons, and the arms returned to their old resting places. They left the sapping of his life to the ring, the crystal, and the wall. Regis had shied from the public eye, avoiding any position where his weaknesses might be revealed. Insomnia might have been a haven for over a century, but Regis wasn’t without inside enemies. Citizens—who had no idea of the perils outside the city—criticized the king and his actions. Some had even made attempts on Regis’ life.

Cor could see lights flickering over the plains. From a distance, they might have seemed pretty, maybe even alluring like the will-o’-the-wisp that danced above the waters of a swamp. But they were lightning bombs floating above the terrain.

The citizens of Insomnia who treated daemons as nothing more than an element to a scary tale were like to grow more used to their presence in the coming weeks. Many of them wouldn’t survive the nights—too harsh a lesson for all their misgivings about the royal family and its role in keeping them safe.

“It’s time to rest,” said Cor, standing. “We need to get through the blockade early tomorrow morning.”

“Uh huh.” Noctis didn’t glance up.

Cor thought he might stay there all night, but before Cor could finish his bedtime routine, Noctis had flopped across his bedroll. His steady breathing suggested it had taken him record time to fall asleep.

Not unusual. Cor had often lifted a dozing child from the backseat of the Regalia while Regis watched in amusement, too weak to carry his own son. 

_“Should have had your own children.”_

_“No thanks.”_

Would the ghosts of his friends continue to haunt him on this journey? They weren’t even being _helpful_ , and he could have used some advice. Did he leave Noctis in the dark, as Regis had done for years? How much _could_ he say without compromising the future of Eos?

Maybe he needed to rest more than Noctis or the others.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next up: Cor discovers that the guys sleep _very close_ to one another and he's not an exception, and Iris takes on Loqi.


	5. Chapter Four

**Cor**

Cor glared at the ceiling of the tent.

It was too fucking early to be awake. His body was trained to wake up at a certain time every morning—5:30 a.m.—and he didn’t need to set an alarm (though he did as a precaution) to rise. It had been that way for years.

Years where he did not have two boys latched onto him on either side. Years where he did not have limbs tossed across his legs and chest. The close contact overheated him. Even Leide didn’t get cold enough at night for him to find this arrangement comfortable.

Prompto hooked around him like an octopus onto a rock. Noctis curled against his side, head resting in the crook of his arm. Ignis slept next to Noctis, completing their little huddle.

It took effort to extract himself from the tangle, but when Cor emerged, he felt twenty degrees cooler. Against the sweaty feeling at his neck, the difference was chilling enough to make him let out a little shudder.

Despite waking up too early, the sun broke over the horizon before Cor finished his morning routine—stretches, a wash, and a cup of coffee. Ignis emerged from the tent, suppressing a yawn as he stumbled through his ritual. Cor smirked when Ignis took a sip of his coffee and pinched his face. 

Cor had never met anyone who appreciated the way he roasted coffee.

“The others will be up soon,” said Ignis as he tossed out the mug and pot and went to work brewing another batch. A waste, but Cor kept his mouth shut.

The “others” were Prompto and Gladiolus, eventually followed by a half-asleep Iris. When Noctis didn’t leave his bedroll despite Ignis’ breakfast announcement, Cor took matters into his own hands.

When new Crownsguard recruits wouldn’t rise from their bunks, Cor would bark out the time of day, sometimes decorating it with a threat that any who couldn’t get up had no business joining. But he couldn’t send the prince—king now (how would he ever get used to that?)—of Lucis back home to his parents with a rucksack hugged to his chest.

Cor had never been one to bellow, but his voice rang sharply through the tent. Noctis moaned and buried his face into his arms.

“The blockade,” Cor reminded him before dipping out.

Noctis demonstrated to Cor over the following three minutes how someone could crawl without getting on their hands and knees. As he dropped into his camping chair, Ignis handed Noctis a ready-made plate of toast and eggs with a little grilled luncheon meat to the side.

“Does he always eat breakfast with his eyes closed?” asked Iris, wide eyed over the rim of her coffee mug.

“Not always,” said Ignis.

Gladiolus. “Yes.”

“Most of the time,” Ignis amended.

“He’d better join the living soon,” said Cor, pouring a fresh cup of coffee. “We’ve got to be sharp for this mission. No opening for screw ups.” He exaggerated; Monica had given him an estimation of the numbers of magitek troopers guarding the dilapidated factories that once stood at the blockade, and he suspected with his plan, they wouldn’t have much of an issue knocking them out. But that was without surprises and the assumption that the number hadn’t shifted much overnight. 

Food put the spark back in Noctis. Everyone pitched in with dismantling the camp and packing everything away. It might have even continued smoothly if Gladiolus hadn’t created a blockade of his own by standing between Iris and Mildred.

“My sister ain’t riding with you. No offense.”

Cor lifted the kickstand. “Iris. Hop on.”

They could hear Gladiolus yelling as they tore down the dirt road. Cor might have even sped a little more than necessary to get a bigger rise out of him.

Worth it. Even more worth it when Iris started laughing—a sound so genuine and pure, he hadn’t realized how badly he had missed hearing it. Prompto had gotten a few chuckles out of everyone the night before while they played that cell phone game of theirs, but it hadn’t been the same. It hadn’t been as natural and carefree.

Monica met them at a haven near their infiltration point. The Regalia pulled up shortly after Cor had parked Mildred.

“Let’s go,” said Cor, Iris and Noctis behind him.

Iris managed to squeeze between the boulders with no issue. It was a bit tight for Cor, who tried not to bump his head on the jagged rocks as he edged his way inside.

“Watch your step,” mouthed Cor to the others. Their path was littered with rubble, some of it likely to hold rusty nails and deteriorated pipes. Kicking a brick could mean giving away their position to the troopers.

Noctis’ warpstrike abilities proved useful. He could aim at MTs from higher vantage points while Iris and Cor cleared the troopers on the ground. There were no more than a handful within a given radius. It took minutes to clear each area before moving on to the next. Cor lost his thoughts in the flow of battle, honing decades of practice into second nature. There weren’t many MTs on their end—Monica and the others would have to deal with greater numbers. 

Iris found the system to open the gate and pressed the switches. The street was littered with troopers that had lined up at the checkpoint. 

“All right on your end?” asked Noctis as the rest of their group stepped through the gate.

“Not a problem,” said Gladiolus. “What about you?” He directed the question at his sister.

“Seems you dealt with more than we did,” said Iris. “We had it pretty easy.”

Gladiolus snorted and nodded toward the sky. “Might wanna take that back. We’ve got company.”

Cor heard the engine of the airship. And then he heard a familiar, haughty voice—a tinny version, coming through over the airship’s speakers.

“Stay right where you are.” 

This surprise was a bit of a minor inconvenience, albeit an _annoying_ one—going by the name Loqi Tummelt. It only took a few seconds for the person behind the voice to spot him among their group.

“Well, well, if it isn’t Cor the Immortal. So you survived the Citadel. But you won’t survive what I have in store for you. It’s past time your legend came to an end.” 

The ship deposited the MA-X Cuirass and several troopers among the rusted storage units. Dust kicked up, and Cor shielded his eyes with his arm for a few seconds. 

“What’s the plan, Ignis?” Cor shouted. It was a challenge to the tactician of the group. The coming battle gave Cor a chance to test their mettle without the stakes being high enough they wouldn’t survive it. 

“Prepare ourselves for the long haul,” came the reply.

While not quite the answer Cor had in mind, he couldn’t argue with the logic behind it. Some of these machines were difficult to take down in a short time. Loqi’s mech moved closer to them, but Cor focused on cutting down the troopers to clear a path for the others. He had Gladiolus’ help—the swing of his broad sword hit two of them and sent them sprawling on their backs. Cor finished them off before they could recover.

The mech stomped in fury like a child having a tantrum—and the man in control seemed to be having one, too. 

“Enough of this! You will suffer for this!” 

Prompto rolled away before he was crushed under the tons of metal, but some of the blasts managed to hit him in the shoulder. He gasped only a few feet to Cor’s left. Cor cut a path through the MTs on the ground as he made his way to Prompto’s side.

“Hanging in there, Prompto?”

“Oh, I’m hanging…by a thread.”

Cor cracked an elixir against Prompto’s back, patting his shoulder a bit to motivate him back on his feet.

“Thanks!”

Noctis, Gladiolus, and Cor all went in at once on one of the legs. The machine hardly stumbled at all.

“Shit,” gasped Gladiolus. “Iris, what are you doing?”

Cor rolled away before the mech could crush him beneath its weight. He dared a glance in Gladiolus’ direction and followed his gaze. 

Iris clambered up the ladder of a tower. It wasn’t a bad tactic, if she had the dexterity to pull off what he was certain she would attempt. If they could get Loqi out of the spacious safety of the cabin, the mech would be useless scrap without a pilot.

“Let her go,” said Cor. “She knows what she’s doing.” 

Clarus, he suspected, would have murdered him for sounding so cavalier about Iris’ actions, but Cor trusted Iris. And if she was indeed about to do what he suspected…

“Everyone, let’s clear the MTs!”

There were only two remaining stragglers—one that had come out from behind a storage unit while the other rose to its feet again after having been downed. Cor went for the former as it aimed its gun at Iris. Its severed arm fizzled against the rubble.

He looked up in time to see Iris leap from the guard rail to the top of the mech, a metal pipe clutched in her hands. She used it like a third leg on her landing before raising it above her head and beating it against the glass.

“Get off me, you brat!” Loqi’s intercom voice shrieked as the mech stomped around like a befuddled animal.

Cor laughed. Never in his life had he seen more spunk. Well. Not since his own youth.

“Iris!” Gladiolus sprinted toward the mech. 

Iris raised the pipe above her head. It crashed against the window, the cracks blooming like a web across Loqi’s line of vision. Tinny screeches blasted through the intercom, and Cor grimaced while the other guys covered their ears with their hands.

Iris kicked away at the glass until it gave away and allowed her room to enter the cockpit. The scuffle had full audio through the intercom—Cor could tell from the yelps who was winning.

A few minutes later, the top opened. Iris had Loqi in a chokehold from behind. The mech’s legs gave way, and the whole thing crashed.

Cor folded his arms and grinned.

Gladiolus ran over and helped take custody of Loqi, shoving him in Noctis and Ignis’ direction before he turned to high-five his sister.

“Not that you didn’t scare the shit outta me,” Gladiolus admitted. “But damn, never doubt us Amicitia.”

“You did good,” agreed Cor.

A shadow fell across the cement, and he turned to Monica.

“The area clear?”

“Yes, sir. All MTs within a quarter mile radius have been destroyed.”

“Not for long,” sneered Loqi.

“Oh, we expect more will be dispatched,” said Monica, nodding. “That’s why I insist you hurry back to your vehicles and get through the blockade before they arrive. I will take Loqi into custody.”

Loqi fought against Ignis’ hold, writhing to get away. 

“Let him go,” said Cor.

Iris let out a huff. “No way!”

“We don’t have anywhere to put a prisoner right now, and it’s best if Monica has her hands free. Besides, isn’t it worse that we send Loqi back to the Empire with this small humiliation?” Cor chuckled when his mind replayed Iris launching herself at the MA-X Cuirass. “The Empire isn’t so kind to failures.”

Loqi’s face turned a delightful shade of deep red—partly from anger, but Cor had nailed him as the type to be embarrassed about this small defeat.

“H-How dare you!”

“Let him go, Ignis.”

Ignis reluctantly released his grip. As Loqi scrambled toward his airship, Ignis voiced his concern. 

“Was that so wise, sir? He’ll be a problem for later.”

“Against the six of us? Hardly. Even if he gets a new mech.” Cor chuckled as the airship made its hasty retreat into the sky.

Seeing the group in action had eased some of his doubts while it raised new concerns. Ignis’ tactical skills needed honed. Gladiolus had allowed his emotions to interfere with his performance—showing skepticism rather than trust in his sister’s actions. Not that Cor could deny a lack of communication on Iris’ part. In a more serious battle, the distraction could have been fatal. (But the boys needed to learn, as well, that elements were unpredictable.) 

Prompto had done the best he could. Had he been trained from a young age, he might have been one of the more skilled people in the fight.

“I’m going to continue traveling with you all,” said Cor, as if he had been reconsidering it. “There will be more like Loqi—worse than him. You’re all too inexperienced in actual combat. I’m going to train you out here in a way I couldn’t back in the Crown City.”

No one objected outright, but he could sense this wasn’t the most thrilling news for any of them to hear.

“Now we’d better get to Duscae before more MTs arrive. Come on.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Cor's original dialogue about how the battle proved to him the boys could handle themselves was bullshit. Ignis' tactical skills were fucking _rubbish_. That's not a fucking strategy. He's green, and that's okay, but they need Cor.
> 
> So yeah. Fixed it.
> 
> Iris took on Loqi, like I said. :D


	6. Chapter Five

**Prompto**

The sign for Wiz’s Chocobo Post came into view not far into Duscae. Prompto sat up a little more in his seat, tucking away his camera.

“Chocobos! I want to go!” 

“We don’t have time,” Gladiolus growled from the backseat. He had spent several minutes monologuing the tragedies of being an older brother after Cor sped past the Regalia with Iris, and not enough time had passed for the sulk to wear off. Knowing Gladiolus, he would be in a bad mood for a while.

“We _totally_ have time—don’t you agree, Noct?” Prompto twisted around in his seat, hanging over the back of the headrest. 

Noct blinked sleepily up at him. “I guess.”

Prompto clung to the headrest a little tighter as Ignis pulled the car into a rest stop. Iris and Cor came over to greet them as they were stepping out.

“What’s the plan?” asked Cor.

“Rest here for the night,” said Ignis, nodding toward a crappy caravan. Prompto sighed. It was better than nothing—better than camping. At least they’d have soft beds. Not hotel quality, but he’d take it.

“When can we see the chocobos?” asked Prompto.

“Chocobos?” Iris’ eyes lit up. She turned to Noctis. “I want to go!”

“We will,” said Noctis through a yawn. “But first, Specs is right. Let’s sleep.”

“We should get something to eat, first,” added Ignis. “Why don’t we try the diner?”

“Sure.”

Prompto sat between Cor and Noctis on one side of a booth, while Iris squeezed between Gladiolus and Ignis. They ordered a large basket of fries to split. Halfway through nibbling on his portion, Noctis rested his head against the windowsill and nodded off. Prompto elbowed him, but little would stir the sleepy prince.

“Leave him,” said Cor. “He’s always been like this.”

“I can fix something if he gets hungry later,” said Ignis.

They managed to rouse Noctis from his nap after everyone ate. He dragged his feet to the caravan and stole the closest bed to the door. Prompto pulled Noctis’ boots off and tucked them into the narrow closet by the door while Ignis fetched a blanket and tossed it over his shoulders.

“Tomorrow, we’ll camp,” said Cor. “This is a bit cramped.”

“Now you’re talking.” Gladiolus opened a bottle of soda and downed half of it before he took a breath. “Except for the bed in back, all the cots are tiny.”

“Claustrophobic,” agreed Prompto. “Can I share the bed with you?”

“Yeah.” 

“Guess I’ll take the floor.” Cor left the caravan and came back dragging a bedroll. He laid it out in the space between the wall seat and the table. “That leaves Ignis and Iris.”

“I can take the top bunk,” said Iris.

“I’ll manage on the floor in the bedroom with Gladio and Prompto.”

Prompto sighed. He had hoped to spend some time with Gladiolus—then again, they wouldn’t be able to do anything without rocking the entire caravan, and the walls were paper thin. At least they would be able to spoon, but they did that every night they shared a tent. And if they didn’t, Prompto always spooned with _someone_. Wasn’t that the best part of sleeping in the same space as your friends?

“Hey, Cor. How did five people fit in a caravan back in your day?” asked Prompto, taking a seat at the table and drumming his knuckles against the top.

“Back in my day?” Cor’s voice held a severe note.

Prompto chuckled. “Um, yeah, it was like…thirty years ago. Wasn’t it?”

“Everyone played strip poker for the main bed, and the loser had to walk around outside for ten minutes before he got his clothes back.” Cor stared Prompto dead in the eye. “I never lost.”

“Sure you didn’t.” 

“I’m pretty sure Weskham cheated, but we could never catch him. He always got the bed.”

Prompto decided—when the image of Cid (somehow _not_ pictured thirty years younger) cursing outside the caravan with no clothing on entered his brain uninvited—to change the subject. As quickly as possible. (And why Cid? Maybe Regis lost. Or Clarus. He knew Clarus looked much like Gladiolus when he was younger. That image. Yes, that was a good one. Naked Gladiolus.)

“Let’s play strip poker,” said Prompto, wondering how much he could rig the game against Gladiolus.

“No.” Cor narrowed his eyes.

Gladiolus reached over and knocked Prompto in the back of the head. “Not with my sister here!”

“Completely inappropriate,” agreed Ignis. “Be a gentleman.”

Iris crossed her arms over her chest. “I’m not a little girl, and I know what men look like. I’d even take you up on that game of strip poker if anyone here was worth seeing naked.”

Cor lifted one palm up, and Iris slapped it in a quick high five. The two exchanged grins.

Prompto moaned and buried his face in his arms as he slumped against the table. No one was going to let him see Gladiolus naked—and at this point, he suspected they were intentionally sabotaging all his chances.

~*~

**Cor**

Keeping tabs on the prince as an adult was much harder than when he had been small. Cor had firsthand experience with chasing after the child. Noctis could get into everything and be everywhere. When Noctis slipped out of the Citadel or his bedroom and wandered onto the skywalk with Ignis at all hours, Cor had been the one to find him. Sometimes by accident. He almost stepped on Ignis and Noctis once while making rounds, because those two tried to view the stars late one night. 

Before Cor stepped out of the diner that morning, where he had enjoyed a nice cup of steaming coffee, Noctis had added several side trips to their chocobo detour. One involved finding a mineral for some punk named Dino, who had called Noctis earlier that morning. What kind of name was Dino? Cor instantly imagined some smarmy smooth talker youth in nice clothes who couldn’t be trusted. 

The other involved catching frogs. Cor stood with his boots half-submerged in stagnant water while Noctis chased down the slippery creatures.

“A little help?” pleaded Noctis as one hopped past Cor.

“You promised Sania. I didn’t.” Cor hadn’t met the woman. He had been present for the chat with Dave. Damn, it had been hard to interfere with that one—a man who wanted his fallen comrades’ families to have closure and a dog tag to remember their loved ones by. How could Cor interfere with his request? But… “Why frogs?”

“She said something about… I don’t know. I wasn’t paying attention.” Noctis reached for the frog, but his foot slipped, and he fell to his hands and knees in the mud. “Damnit!”

Once they gathered up all the frogs into a bucket with a screen over it, Noctis pointed past some of the bushes. Cor could barely make out the roof of an old shack.

“There’s a fishing dock there!”

“You’re going fishing now?” Cor sighed.

“I have to see what fish they have here!”

They had already managed to find the dog tags and return them to Dave, but they still had to get the frogs back to Sania before nightfall. And then there was that mineral to locate and tombs to find. 

But Cor couldn’t bring himself to march Noctis through the final steps to becoming the Chosen King. Cor might have been expected to do it, but the prince was young. It couldn’t harm them to take it a little slow. The boys were making memories—ones they would all need. Pressing onward would only wear all of them down.

“Hold on, I saw some guy fishing, let me see if he knows anything,” said Noctis. “Come on, Ignis.”

Ignis followed Noctis through the mud and brush, Prompto and Gladiolus at their heels. Cor headed for the dock. No one was there. The fishing gear shack had long ago closed and been boarded up. Cor knocked his boots against the wooden stairs to loosen the dried mud. Some of it was still wet, and he pried it out of the grooves of his rubber soles with a stick. Iris set the bucket of frogs next to her and perched on the edge of the dock. 

“You didn’t go with them?”

“Nah, I’m on frog watch duty.” 

“Should make his High—Majesty carry those. It’s his errand.”

“It’s all right. Aren’t they kind of cute?” 

Cor peered in through the screen. “No.”

Iris stared out over the water. “Do you think Noctis has a spare rod? I want to fish, too.”

“Do you know how?”

“Not really, but it seems like it might be kind of fun.” She leaned over and skimmed her fingers over the surface of the water. “You taught Noctis how to fish, didn’t you?”

“Back when he was a small thing. Took him to the reservoir a few times. We sort of learned together. Do you know how he got into fishing?”

Iris glanced up at him briefly. “No.”

“He went to a festival set up in front of the Citadel once, and there was a little magnetic fishing game with a pool of water. Depending on the color if the fish you caught, you won a prize. Noctis started to ask about fishing more and more, so his dad bought him a similar game, on a much smaller scale. Eventually, I started taking him to the reservoir. He was excited about it. He loved fishing, and I did, too.”

“Maybe he’ll have spare rods for all of us.”

“Hey now, we can’t cast too many lines close to each other. They’ll get tangled up.”

Iris stood up, brushing the dirt off her skirt as soon as the guys returned. Noctis did have a second fishing rod, but not any others for the rest of them. Iris and Noctis cast out at opposite sides of the dock. Cor lingered nearby, offering Iris quiet bits of advice. She was a much better listener than the prince.

Iris reeled in a bluegill as her first catch. 

“That’s not even edible,” said Noctis, barely giving it a glance before he returned to trying to catch a crag barramundi for the guy they had met with earlier—some sportsman by the name of Navyth, who had promised Noctis a prize in return for his efforts. 

It took him an hour to catch a crag barramundi. By then, Navyth had set up his gear and chair near the dock.

“Good job!” shouted Navyth as Noctis held up his prize. “Come here, let me take a closer look!”

Noctis hopped off the dock and ran over, clutching his pair of grippers as the fish flopped around on the other end. Even at twenty years old, he could be the same little boy inside, excited to go to the reservoir and catch elusive fish—so elusive, they didn’t exist in the waters in and around Insomnia. Like piranha. It had taken years for Noctis to learn that piranha did not live in the reservoir and therefore could not be caught there.

Navyth whistled out approval as he stretched his tape measure across the ground next to the fish to get its exact size. He gave Noctis a lure in exchange.

“Now to drop off those frogs,” said Cor, herding him away before Navyth could monopolize the prince’s time with more fishing. “After that, we’ll find a haven and camp for the night.”

“Talk to you later!” Noctis waved at Navyth before he took up the bucket with the frogs and they headed back to the rest stop.

~*~

**Noctis**

The group chose to camp not far from the slough. Ignis grilled the fish Noctis caught that afternoon, flavoring it with the right seasonings. If someone would only let him, Noctis would fish for a living, selling off the catches he didn’t need to eat to pay for his video games. 

Maybe in another lifetime. 

He wanted to go back home. When he voiced as much, Gladiolus asked him “where”—and he could only lie. A hotel, a bed, a place that only resembled the comforts he had grown up with. Instead, he sat in a canvas folding chair, facing out into the darkness that held daemons and fireflies.

“Noct.” Ignis rested a hand on his shoulder as he came up behind him. “Will you be going to bed soon?”

“Not yet. Not sleepy—for once.”

“Then perhaps I could ask a favor.”

“What’s that?”

“When the others have gone to bed and the fire is out, let’s lay out our bedrolls outside of the tent and watch the stars.”

Watch the stars? “We haven’t done that since we were kids.”

“We’re overdue, then. You’ll find that there is more to see in the night’s sky when you aren’t competing with light pollution from the city.”

“Yeah, I noticed that.” Noctis loved the stars, to gaze up at them in awe of what the universe held beyond their planet. Were there worlds without the scourge? Without daemons? Did other races inhabit them? “Let’s do it.”

Prompto and Iris had dozed off in the big tent not long after helping with the dinner cleanup. Gladiolus climbed in beside them an hour later.

Cor sat beside the dying embers of their campfire and sipped on a beer.

“You’re going to ask for my tent, aren’t you?” He raised an eyebrow before taking another swig.

“If it’s not too much trouble…”

“Please?” Noctis offered Cor a familiar smile, not unlike when he used to talk him into things as a child.

Cor narrowed his eyes. “No.”

“But there are already three people in the other one!”

“I’d like to sleep alone. I also have a rule about no couples in my tent.” Cor took another drink from his beer and relaxed in his seat. “Don’t think I haven’t noticed what’s going on between the two of you.”

Noctis hadn’t made an effort to hide it or make it known either way since Cor and Iris joined their group, but he didn’t think they had been that obvious.

“Did your father know?”

“No,” said Noctis. “There was never time, and…” And the line of Lucis had to continue, regardless of his relationship to Ignis.

“I understand.”

“Then you’ll let us have the tent?”

“Not a chance.” 

Noctis let out a loud groan, and some part of the wilderness beyond the haven responded with a howl of its own. Cor laughed at the noise. 

“It’s gonna be so crowded in that tent. Five people.”

“Four and a half. Iris is tiny.”

“We’ll worry about it later,” said Ignis, leading Noctis away from Cor. He dropped his voice down to a conspiratorial whisper. “We can send Prompto into Cor’s tent later.”

Noctis grinned. The ultimate payback—sticking Cor with their clingiest member. “Doesn’t break the couple rule, either.”

They untied their bedrolls, stretching them out on one of the few bare spaces left on the surface of the haven. Noctis settled against Ignis’ side, resting his head in the crook of his arm. The sky was a sea of stars, some of them clustered together so thick they didn’t need lines to connect them. It was easy to see how their ancestors had once looked up and saw monsters and people and stories.

“You couldn’t get views like this in the city,” said Noctis. “Remember when we made that fort in my room, and we painted the top of the sheet with glow in the dark paint, so we could see stars when we looked up?”

“Your father was cross with us, for damaging expensive sheets.” Ignis chuckled. 

“Well, he said I couldn’t paint the ceiling. Better a sheet than a ceiling!”

“You tried to argue that same point with him.”

“I can’t remember if it worked.”

“It did. He let us keep the sheet, too, since he was afraid we’d paint another one.”

Noctis grinned and wrapped an arm around Ignis’ torso. “I bet that thing is still stuffed in the trunk in the nursery.”

“Probably.”

“Didn’t look nearly as good as this. But the best view here is you.” Noctis reached over and kissed Ignis’ cheek. “Thanks for suggesting this. It’s a good memory.”

“Of course.” Ignis skimmed his fingers through Noctis’ hair, and the soothing touch and the warmth from Ignis’ body made Noctis sleepy. 

He gave the stars one long, lasting look, before he closed his eyes.

The next morning, he woke up beside Ignis in Cor’s tent, but had no memory of how either of them got there.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Cor: No, you may not have my tent.  
> *boys fall asleep outside*  
> Cor: ...FINE. YOU WIN.
> 
> When Cor talks to Iris about taking Noctis fishing, I kind of played off a coupe of my past fics, [We'll have a grand time fishing](https://archiveofourown.org/works/10424118) and [Fish On!](https://archiveofourown.org/works/10745844)


	7. Chapter Six

**Iris**

Mildred beat the Regalia to Wiz’s, and the first thing Iris noticed was the lack of yellow feathered friends and the chorus of “kwehs” she associated with the birds. The barnyard stench she had come to associate with many domesticated animals was faint. All yellow belonged to umbrellas and banners and decorations around the post.

There weren’t many people on the property, either. The skies threatened rain again, and maybe that had to do with the lack of patrons.

Iris hopped off the bike and stretched. The Regalia pulled in beside the motorcycle as she reached out for the clouds on her tiptoes. 

“Where are the chocobos?” Prompto asked as soon as he was out of the car.

“Kweh?” Iris offered.

“Well, if they ain’t here, let’s go,” said Gladiolus. 

Iris punched his shoulder. Not hard, but he grunted and rubbed the wounded area. He had become increasingly grumpy every time she rode on the back of Mildred. That didn’t give him an excuse to take it out on everyone.

“What was that for?”

“You know why. We came for the chocobos, so let’s see some chocobos!” 

“Why aren’t they here?” asked Noctis.

“Let’s ask the proprietor, Wiz,” said Ignis. He pointed to a man sitting at a table, beneath the shelter of a wide umbrella. A few sprinkles dotted the ground and their clothing—the skies were opening up. “I believe that might be him.”

Iris sprinted and dove into a chair before the worst of the downpour started. “Hello! Are you Wiz?”

“That would be me, miss.” Wiz nodded.

“Where’re all the chocobos?”

“Put them in for now. It’s been dangerous around these parts lately.” 

By then, the rest of the group had caught up and gathered around the table, trying to stay as dry as possible under the shelter of the umbrella. Prompto stole the last remaining chair. Ignis held his jacket over a crouching prince. 

“What do you mean, dangerous?” asked Gladiolus, arms crossed.

“Deadeye. He’s a behemoth, and he makes the birds nervous. They catch one whiff of him, and it ruffles their poor feathers. Can’t get them to settle down. Rentals have been suspended, to prevent accidents and tragedies.”

“Deadeye? He must be a formidable foe, if you’ve given him a name.” Ignis frowned.

Wiz put a finger to his right cheek and tapped his finger against it, pointing at his eye. “Hunter took out one of his eyes years ago. Makes him vulnerable on one side, but he’s meaner for it, too. He’s been a problem in Duscae for a while now, but we ain’t ever had him this close to the birds. Someone suspects he changed lairs. I’ve sent out a bounty, but most hunters won’t chase after him—not even for the reward I’m offering. Can’t say I blame ‘em.”

Iris glanced down at the menu on the table. It offered an assortment of gyshal green variety snacks, but when she flipped it over, it showed a list of all the current bounties in the area. A little over three thousand gil and an amethyst bracelet were being offered for anyone who downed the beast. A rank bonus, too. Iris hadn’t participated in many hunts, but it seemed like a good time as any to start.

“We’re hunters,” said Prompto.

Iris raised her head. “What? Really?”

“Since Cindy sent us out on our first hunts,” said Ignis. “We’ve taken a few bounties since then—from the outpost, from Takka, even at some of the Crow’s Nest locations.”

“That means you have some experience,” said Wiz. “You willing to take Deadeye on? I’d be mighty appreciative if you felled him.”

“Yes!” Iris pounded a fist against the table.

“Wait a minute,” said Cor. “Shouldn’t we talk this over as a group?”

“But the chocobos!” Prompto gestured frantically at the pens behind him. 

“Yeah, let’s help,” said Noctis.

Iris grinned. “Then it’s settled, if Noctis thinks we should go after it!” 

“Guess even Noct has a soft spot for chocobos,” said Gladiolus, grinning across the table at Noctis.

“You were in the car with Prompto. He’s been humming the chocobo theme since last night.” Noctis narrowed his eyes. “What if he won’t stop until we get to ride them?”

Gladiolus snorted. “Sure. This is about Prom and his obnoxious singing. I’d just knock him on the back of the head every time he started.”

“You would not!” Prompto squawked.

“I sit behind you.”

“Let’s trade seats.”

“Let’s just hunt this thing and ride the chocobos,” Gladiolus grumbled, but Iris saw the sparkle in his eyes. It gave him a chance to show off his ability to track monsters, and Deadeye seemed like a worthy challenge for any Amicitia to face down.

“Good, it’s settled,” said Iris, flipping the menu around to see her meal options. “Before we head out, I want a smoothie and chips! I’m starved, and it’d be stupid to hunt down a behemoth on an empty stomach.”

“Yeah, half blind ain’t gonna stop it from hearing your loud stomach,” said Gladiolus.

“Shut it, Gladdy. I don’t need as much food as you do, so sit down and eat something.”

Wiz stood. “I’ll get started right away on your order. Does anyone else want something?”

Noctis leaned over to get a glimpse of the menu and crinkled his nose. “Are these all made from vegetables?”

“Grown on the finest farms in Duscae,” said Wiz proudly.

“I’ll pass. Can I have a sandwich without the veggies?”

“Of course.”

Ignis, Noctis, Cor, and Gladiolus took seats at a nearby table. All of them ordered something—mainly chips and smoothies, because they were items they couldn’t order anywhere else. Iris had never tried things made with gyshal greens, despite their popularity among Crown City’s most health-conscientious citizens. 

The smoothie had a sweet, tart taste to it, and the chips were seasoned in a way that made it hard to eat only a few. Iris finished off an entire basket on her own. 

The rain had cleared up while they ate, but it remained overcast into the afternoon. 

Iris remembered the skills her father had taught her to track enemies. Gladiolus made full use of the training as well. They spotted cracked branches, and only a behemoth or something of similar size and muscle could have caused that level of damage. The footprints in the sodden earth were even more telling. Iris skirted around one, trying not to splash in the puddle and alert Deadeye to their location.

They were all quiet, talking more with gestures. Fog began to grow thick around them, the moisture cold against Iris’ arms. She tried to think of something warmer, like the campfire or snuggling up with her brother on the sofa. 

A soft weight settled against her back and over her shoulders. Someone’s jacket. She glanced up in time to see Ignis withdrawing his hands. 

“Thanks,” she mouthed. 

He smiled and nodded once before he went back to scouting the area. Iris pulled her arms through the jacket. She felt toasty in its massive size. Ignis had a nice smelling cologne, too. Iris gave one of the sleeves a sniff and smiled against the fabric.

But the jacket had setbacks. She learned it could get in the way when a pack of voretooths surrounded them. As someone who relied on her hands for combat, the oversized sleeves covered up her knuckles. 

She pushed them up her arms and dug in her pocket for hairbands. She snapped them over the folds at her elbows to keep them in place, fighting off one voretooth with a kick of her boots while she held a tie between her teeth. Rib bones cracked upon impact and the beast rolled away from her. Once she had everything pinned in place the best way she could manage for the time being, she sprinted towards her target and landed a punch against its neck.

The voretooth yelped and tried to scramble out of distance, but with one leg kicked up, she nailed it in the ribcage again. The creature crumpled against the ground.

Iris spun around to face the others. Cor and her brother grinned. Ignis seemed unfazed. But Prompto and Noctis stared at her as if she had started breathing fire.

“Did I do something wrong?” asked Iris.

“How did you dress and fight at the same time?” asked Prompto.

Gladiolus slapped each of the younger two boys on the backs as he walked up between them. “You’re lucky you never had to share a bathroom with her. She would blow dry her hair and still beat me out of the room with a bathbrush.”

“You took too long!” snapped Iris. “You don’t need half an hour on your hair! And what about all those times you flexed in front of the mirror? You ran me late for school.”

“That was one time.”

“Nice as this all is,” began Cor, “you’re going to draw attention to us.”

Iris froze. Right. Before her idiot brother opened his moron mouth, they were tracking Deadeye. A vicious behemoth with a blind eye they could use to their advantage, if only they weren’t about to have a sibling argument in the middle of the woods. If the beast had heightened hearing to make up for the lack of eyesight, their quick bickering would draw its attention.

They managed to travel a few yards through the trees and rocks when they heard a deep-bellied roar nearby. The ground rumbled. A chill from excitement and fear shuddered through Iris. 

“Where do you think it is?” whispered Prompto.

“Nearby, a few yards away.” Cor pointed through the fog in the direction of the behemoth. “We’ll use the fog to our advantage.” 

They caught a flick from a thick tail a few yards later. Iris ducked behind a rock, pressing her back against the cold stone.

Chasing a behemoth through fog sucked. The forest was muddy, and Deadeye appeared to be going in zig-zags and circles. Finally, the stupid beast disappeared over some rocks.

They found his lair in the ruins of an old refinery. Debris shook along the ground at each footstep of the beast, and Iris’ heart jumped to her throat. Their plan had to be infallible. Iris had learned Ignis’ tactician skills were raw and in need of tempering, but this would be a good time for him to hone them. 

Iris pressed her back to the bricks of a building wall and waited for Ignis to give them instructions. But as she gazed around, a tower half-hidden behind some trees caught her eye. _Perfect._

Iris brushed her fingers against Ignis’ sleeve and nodded in the direction of the tower. 

Ignis smiled his approval and handed over a flask of fire magic before pointing out the oil drums scattered around the premise. Many of them might have leaked over the years, but even a little residue could catch on fire. 

Iris pocketed the flask and wove her way through the decaying walls of the refinery. Loose bricks and crumbled infrastructure made it all the harder, since even the slightest misstep could mean rolling a stone across the gravel and tipping off Deadeye. Bless her father for letting her take all those dance lessons throughout her youth. It came in handy when tiptoeing around the debris.

A fence blocked her way, and there would be no way to climb it without alerting Deadeye. She pivoted around and was grateful to see Cor watching her. He held a finger up to her.

She crouched behind a wall, using a broken window to keep a line of vision with Cor. 

Within a few minutes, the other guys had finished mapping out their strategy in the dirt. Noctis leapt out of hiding and tossed the first flask in the direction of the oil barrel nearest to Deadeye.

Iris turned her back on the scene and clambered up the wall, hoping the chain-link rattling against its frame wouldn’t be more enticing to Deadeye than the attack being launched on it. 

She landed with a dull thump on the other side, palms catching on the dewy grass. She brushed them against her skirt as she ran for the tower. 

From the bottom, it looked taller than it had at a distance. At the top of the ladder, her legs felt shamefully weak. She pressed against the barred fencing at the top and drew out the magic flask. Four flames chased each other in their prison. Ignis had given her quadcast magic—a way of detonating as many explosions out of one flask as possible.

She was the finale. They hadn’t been able to talk, but she had a gut feeling. Ignis trusted her. He had been refining his strategy, banging his hammer through lesser fights to steel them all for battles like this one. Even in such a short time—only a handful of days since the fight with Loqi—he had worked on his skills.

She got to her feet and watched the chaos below. Noctis had managed to fell the beast. Already? Would she be unnecessary? Well, that was no fun…

As Noctis cheered, the tail on the behemoth twitched.

“Noct!” Iris cried out his name in panic, and the beast whipped his head in her direction. But he would have to take down the fence and then the tower to get her, and even he seemed to realize the challenge. He turned back to the prince, but Noctis had already warped to a higher point.

It wasn’t a guarded one, though, and Deadeye took a running start before Cor and Gladiolus hurtled themselves at him. They cut away at his flank, only slowing him down. Noctis aimed a magic flask at a barrel in the behemoth’s path. 

Deadeye clenched his claws into the dirt to stop. The tips of the flame bit at his nostrils, and as he backed away, Ignis used his lance to catapult himself off the ground. He twirled his weapon in the air so its blade speared through the behemoth’s spine. Prompto aimed for Deadeye’s face, catching the beast in his good eye.

Deadeye let out a deafening roar as the men backed out of range.

Iris put all her strength in the swing and let loose the magic flask. It arched through the air, smacked against a barrel on a slope, and exploded. The barrel caught on fire as it rolled on top of the behemoth. The flask let out three more flares before it died away, all on top of Deadeye.

Deadeye did not move. His body was charred, blood oozing from his good eye and crisscrossed wounds. 

Iris waited, but Deadeye’s chest did not rise and fall with breath. Gladiolus gave the corpse a kick before giving his sister the thumb’s up. 

Iris pumped her fist in the air and let out a loud whoop. It echoed in the forest around them, and she was sure she heard a happy _“kweh”_ in reply.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If only someone else had written this story, I wouldn't have to, soooo...this is the quality everyone's stuck with. I'm sorry. ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯


	8. Chapter Seven

**Cor**

“What do you mean, I have to _name_ it?” 

Iris rolled her eyes and pushed Cor toward the corral. “Once you choose your chocobo, you name him or her the best name you can give them! Even dad’s motorcycle has a name, shouldn’t a living creature?”

“I didn’t name the motorcycle.”

“Name. Your. Chocobo.” Her growl rivaled her late father’s fierceness. Cor knew that tone. Knew better than to fuck with it.

“Fine.”

“Good.” Despite the cheer in her voice, he still sensed the threat.

Cor didn’t do names. He had a lot of them, but others could be blamed for that. People referred to him as the marshal because that was his position. If he could take back “Cor the Immortal”, he would. Clarus had started that up, half out of pride and half out of an attempt to embarrass him for scaring the shit out of everyone when he emerged from his fight with Gilgamesh almost dead.

_“You didn’t listen when I told you not to enter the trail. But you survived, so you’re getting a nickname.”_

Clarus must have known how much of a punishment the nickname would bring him. 

“Roc the short-lived.”

Iris set her fists on her hips and glared at him, but he wasn’t cowed by it. In fact, Roc seemed like a great name.

“What if he dies because you named him that?”

“Everyone knows it’s good luck to name something the opposite of what you wish for them.” He didn’t add that he had no aspirations for his bird, except that it might run back to the post and leave him alone. 

He wished for that even harder when Wiz stepped into the corral with their set of birds. Rhinestone—Iris’ chocobo—sported bright pink feathers. A food-based dye was used, a blend safe for the animals. Rhinestone held his head proud as he trotted over to Iris to receive a treat of greens.

Roc was a yellow chocobo, and from the minute Cor laid eyes on him, he suspected he had cursed his bird with its name. An unpredictable chocobo who ran out into the middle of traffic and tilted its head every time it heard a ‘kweh’ in the distance. But the moment he went up to Cor, he snuggled against him.

“Give him his gyshal!” said Iris.

Cor unfolded his hand and watched as Roc snatched up the shredded leafy greens. To Roc’s credit, he nibbled with care, and his beak only tickled against the skin on Cor’s palm. 

“Good boy, Roc,” said Cor, stroking the bird’s neck.

“You aren’t seriously keeping that name.”

“We get along great. Cor and Roc, the immortal and the short-lived.” One capable, one dimwitted—not that he dared say that around Iris.

Roc did not give Cor any problems when he mounted. The dorky bird had a lot of stamina, and even if he didn’t seem capable of going in a straight line—he wasn’t bow-legged, but he raced forward at a zig zag—he stayed ahead of the others. 

“Cor!” Prompto shouted, spurring his chocobo faster over the rocky Duscaen terrain. “Wait up for us.”

The distance between them gathered, and Cor guided his chocobo through high leaps until he was trotting across an arch. No one appeared to have followed him, so once he was at the topmost portion, he dismounted. He settled onto the ground, cross-legged. Roc settled down beside him, resting his head on his knee.

He slipped the bird a small treat before stroking Roc under his chin. 

Below him, he saw four chocobos—like tiny little dots on the landscape—race alongside one another. The guys looked like they were having fun. It was hard to tell who was sitting on which chocobo from that high up, but he could see them scrambling along and bumping into one another. Their laughter echoed through the open air.

Cor felt the sunlight against his back, heating up the black of his coat. He didn’t mind it after the rain and fog when going after Deadeye. He had tolerated freezing cold and long summers, even during battle. A little bit of humidity and warmth didn’t faze him.

Cor caught sight of a haven in the distance, a thin tendril of bluish smoke rising from the campfire. Memories were attached, everywhere he went. Two out of their party of five were dead. His mind made them ghosts. If only had they were spirits, ones he could consult for wisdom—to lead Noctis without feeling as if he were the one driving the sword through the young king’s heart. 

“Fuck you, Regis,” Cor muttered. “And you, too, Clarus.”

He didn’t mean it, making the whole suggestion pointless—especially since they were dead men who couldn’t hear him. An ache had followed him all the way from Insomnia, and if not for the younger generation proving to be a distraction, he might have dwelled on his regrets.

None of them had had time to stop and scream and cry and come to terms with the truth. Cor always thought himself above all that, but the pain had been festering beneath the surface for days. He should have been at the signing. But how could he have done what Clarus couldn’t? Clarus had always been better and wiser. When someone fucked up, they could count on Clarus to sort them out—even if it meant quiet retribution or a loud lecture in the Crownsguard training room.

At forty-five, Cor shouldn’t have needed that direction.

“What am I supposed to do?” 

Roc nudged him in the elbow. 

“Pet you?” Cor scratched the chocobo’s feathers under his chin, and the bird let out soft chirps in response. “Is petting you going to save the world?”

No, but he had saved the chocobo and Wiz’s business by getting rid of Deadeye. Taking pause to care—that’s what they all needed. Cor needed to connect with all five of those kids. Maybe he could tell them stories about his first road trip with Regis. They would all enjoy that. 

“Cor?”

Cor glanced up at Iris, still mounted on her chocobo as she persuaded him over the narrow arch. 

“Oh, that’s why there are only four down there,” said Cor. “You followed me?”

“I was worried.”

“You don’t have to worry about me.” As if Cor needed a teenager to be concerned about someone thirty years her senior—especially someone with a title like “the Immortal”, who had scraped through a fight with Gilgamesh alive despite a sound defeat. The marshal of the Crownsguard. An adult old enough to be her father. 

Iris hopped off her chocobo and sat down beside him. The dots below them circled around, more laughter echoing up to their ears. One of the chocobos sprinted in the direction of the slough. 

“Noctis wants to go fishing,” said Iris.

“As if we have time for that.” Fishing sounded better than sitting up on an arch, feeling remorseful and moody, but Cor wasn’t about to admit that he’d been either of those things.

“I miss my dad,” said Iris after a long stretch of silence.

Crap. He had always been something of an uncle to these children, but how did you console a kid who had lost her father and her home? 

“I’ll teach you how to ride his motorcycle.”

Iris whipped her head around, wide-eyed. “Are you sure?”

“Sure.”

Iris swung her legs over the side of the arch and grinned. “Gladdy’s gonna kill you.”

“Your dad’s going to come back to life and kill me first.” Another memory surfaced, the ghost of his friend standing in front of the Citadel, ready to face his greatest battle. If Clarus caught wind that Cor would be teaching his fifteen-year-old daughter how to drive Mildred, he would never have handed over the keys of his motorcycle that day. 

If only the driving lessons could summon the dead back to life.

“Gladdy’s a lot like Dad,” Iris warned him.

“I think I can handle your brother.”

~*~

**Gladiolus**

After a day of taking it easy and racing their chocobos across the slough, the group headed back to Wiz’s. They could swap the birds for the Regalia. Darkness would be upon them soon, so they’d need to spend the night renting out a camper if Gladiolus couldn’t convince the guys to find a haven. Tents were better than a cramped caravan, even if they always gave him the biggest bed.

As they approached the post, Gladiolus heard the loud rumble of Mildred’s engine echoing through the pines. Cor must have gone back to the post earlier—he didn’t seem that keen on riding chocobos, and Iris had disappeared shortly after.

The lane came into view. Gladiolus almost fell off the side of his chocobo when he saw his little sister behind the handles, Cor beside her. The bike was stationary— _thank the fucking Six_ —but it wouldn’t take much for Iris to hit the gas and bullet off to her death.

Gladiolus sprinted toward them, placing his chocobo in front of the motorcycle.

Iris glanced up as he dismounted.

“Hey! Gladdy, good to see your back!” She had to yell the words over the roar of the engine, but Cor did them all a favor by reaching over and turning the keys to cut it. 

“Get off that thing.”

“Millie is not a thing.”

“She is when you’re on it.”

Iris narrowed her eyes, not unlike she had when she was four and was ready to let out one of her ear-piercing wails when her mean big brother wouldn’t let her have her way. 

“Cor’s teaching me.”

“I’m teaching her,” agreed Cor. “Your sister, if you hadn’t noticed, is no longer a child.”

“Yeah? She’s the only family I have left!” The words left his mouth before he had time to think over them. He had other family—not Amicitias, but the guys were his family, too. 

“Gladio,” said Ignis, coming up beside him. Gladiolus hadn’t noticed the other guys return, having left them in the dust to confront his sister and Cor. “Iris could be harmed a dozen other ways. What if we’re in a situation where she needs to make a quick getaway? If she has the experience to use a motorcycle, Mildred could be her escape plan.”

It took him five minutes of steaming over how fucking unreasonably, unfairly right Ignis’ point sounded before Gladiolus could answer. Iris could handle battles. She didn’t need a getaway plan. But she was also his family, damnit, and she needed an escape if things turned sour. If Gladiolus failed to protect Noctis, Iris would be the one to step up. She could drive Noctis to safety.

“Fine,” he grumbled. “Guess that makes sense.”

“Can you teach us?” asked Prompto.

“Yeah, I wanna learn, too,” said Noctis.

Cor shook his head. “I’m only taking one student at a time.”

“The last thing we need is either of you on a bike,” said Gladiolus. “Prompto’s banned from riding the Regalia for a while for good reason. And Noct would fall asleep on the damn thing.”

“Indeed,” Ignis agreed.

“I would not. Didn’t want to learn, anyway, just wanted to see what the fuss was about.” Noctis glowered at all of them before taking the reins of his chocobo and leading it over to the corral. 

Gladiolus wouldn’t have necessarily minded being taught how to ride his father’s bike. Like Iris, he had sentimental value attached to the deadly contraption. It symbolized the bond between his mother and father. It even represented the trust and friendship between Clarus and Cor. 

He didn’t have to _like_ it, but his sister had a right to drive Mildred.

“You can teach me next,” he said to Iris.

“Sure thing, Gladdy! It’s a promise.”

A promise, huh? He liked the sound of that. In order to fulfill her promise, she couldn’t kill herself on the back of that thing. Not that she actually would. She wasn’t a pouting, loveable kid of four anymore, and she’d kick his ass any time he forgot it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize for my weird sense of humor that led to Cor naming Roc.


	9. Chapter Eight

**Noctis**

“Hey, Prince Noctis! I don’t suppose you’ve finished my favor?” Dino’s voice came through over the phone smoothly, and yet Noctis still found it irritating. 

Every errand they had undertaken lately resulted in magitek soldiers dropping down from the sky on them, and the rain and wildlife hadn’t been any help. 

“Yeah,” said Noctis.

“Good to know. How soon can you make it to Galdin?”

Noctis held back a groan and tried to think of a reply less whiny than the one that crossed through his mind first. His father had taught him to be generous to the people, to help them when in need. Somewhere during the lessons, Regis also slipped in tips about when to know when someone was taking advantage.

Noctis slept through those, and he was beginning to suspect he shouldn’t have. 

Returning to Galdin left him with mixed feelings. He enjoyed the seaside resort’s fishing perks and could spend hours on the dock in relaxation. Cor might even join him. It could be like all those times when he went to the reservoir with Ignis and the marshal during his childhood. But Noctis stayed at the resort when Insomnia fell, and Noctis couldn't help but tie the experiences together.

Still, Dino would pay them in the form of another useful trinket and a bit of gil. Besides, they weren’t obligated to spend the night in the hotel. Camping by the seaside meant Ignis could prepare freshly caught fish. Maybe Cor would lend out his tent again? No. Probably not.

“We’ll get there,” Noctis promised, leaving Dino with no date to expect them.

“Make it soon. These accessories won’t make themselves.”

“Yeah, yeah.”

Noctis pocketed his phone and stared up at the arches over Cauthess Rest Area. The blues and grays of the dreary sky bled like watercolors. Raindrops pattered against his marshmallow puffer vest. Across the street, Gladiolus and Cor held a conversation with Dave. They had hunted down another set of dog tags. How many hunters lost their lives out here in the frontier? While Noctis lived in the shelter of Insomnia, people outside the wall fought to protect these small patches of civilization. Dino’s requests all would go toward an effort to help hunters. 

There were some apartments in Cauthess. Noctis wasn’t sure if they were vacated. He wandered around the buildings, seeing if he could catch a glimpse through a window into any of the flats. All the curtains were drawn. But he did hear something. 

Frogs.

Noctis wandered up the steps to the upper floor apartments. The sound of croaking grew louder. He turned a corner, avoiding the garbage lining the balcony, and came face to face with Sania. Prompto sat in a lawn chair by her workspace, staring into one of the plastic critter cages that held a frog.

“Ah, it’s you again!” Sania’s eyes widened as she set them on Noctis. “Come to offer your support for my research, have you? Well, how very heartening.”

“Um, no, I’m not here to—”

“Now, it just so happens I already have in mind what I need you to fetch me this time. I’m looking for yellow frogs.”

She waved Noctis closer to her table and used the dull end of her pen to tap at the location she wanted them to search. A pond not too far from the rest area, but in the opposite direction if they planned to go to Galdin.

“How soon do you need them?” asked Noctis.

“As soon as possible! My research is critical to finding out about the longer nights and the effects that has on the wildlife.”

“Longer nights?”

“Yes, the nights have been lasting a little longer than usual this time of year. I’m seeing a pattern emerge, and I worry it’s only going to get worse.” Sania scratched down a note in her book, frowning.

“I’ll get them back to you as soon as I can.”

Sania didn’t reply, her attention absorbed by her research. She lowered into one of the plastic lawn chairs and tapped the eraser end of her pencil against her lips. Noctis glanced over at Prompto, who stood up as soon as they made eye contact.

“Bye, little guy.” Prompto waved at the frog in the container. As they trotted down the stairs, boot soles scrapping against the concrete, Prompto sighed. “Who knew frogs could be so cute?”

“Definitely cute,” agreed Noctis.

Noctis loved animals—a fact that had somehow not gone unnoticed by paparazzi. He didn’t think it had been quite so obvious to the public when most of his displays of affection were aimed at the many stray cats that wandered the Citadel gardens. 

“Unless we get turned into them,” said Prompto.

“Guess we should get Ignis to buy some maiden’s kiss.”

Noctis spotted Ignis assessing the vegetables in the back of a rusted pick-up truck while the seller gabbed at him. Once they were closer, Noctis heard bits and pieces of her words. Ignis responded with curt nods before he selected a few of her wares and paid.

“Veggies?” Noctis curled his nose at the paper bag in Ignis’ arms. The tips of leafy greens stuck out from the top. In no dish in any universe would he eat any of it. 

“Not everyone shares your disdain for vegetables. These are for the rest of us.”

“What’re you making?” asked Prompto, leaning in to get a better look at what the paper sack held. 

“You’ll find out when I’ve prepared it.”

That could mean anything. They could be in for a night of stew or something else where even picking the vegetables out couldn’t salvage the dish. Noctis decided to step into the Crow’s Nest for some salmon. He would need all the energy he could get to catch frogs and deal with Dino, and nothing tasted as delicious as fried fish and potatoes. 

Before he was out of Ignis’ earshot, though, he made sure to remind him to stock up on maiden’s kiss. They didn’t need to accidentally capture Cor or Prompto and put them in with Sania’s bucket of frogs.

~*~

**Cor**

They were in Galdin again, headed away from more important destinations. Most of the group seemed excited to arrive. Iris hopped off the bike and joined Prompto at the seashore. The only one who didn’t look that thrilled about being in Galdin was the prince. Noctis fetched a heliodor they had excavated from the Duscae area and rolled it in his hands as he leaned against the Regalia. 

“Should tell Dino we got bombarded with magitek troopers trying to fetch this,” muttered Noctis.

“Not as scary as that bird,” said Gladiolus.

“Bird?” Cor raised an eyebrow.

Gladiolus held out his arms, expanding the wingspan of his tattoo as he described what sounded like a Zu or similar species. Cor had encountered them before during his time on the road with Regis and then during a few tours outside the city.

“You’re lucky it flew off.”

“Noctis freaked out so bad he jumped off the rocks and into the road.” Gladiolus laughed when Noctis reached out and gave him a half-hearted shove against his bicep. “Couldn’t run the rest of the day and limped when he walked.”

“You shouldn’t have done that,” said Cor. The fall would have aggravated old injuries for certain, if not wounded Noctis in an irreversible way. It had taken the help of the Oracle—even after the best doctors in Insomnia saw to Noctis—to get him to walk again after the Marilith attack. 

“I know.” Noctis bowed his head, the reprimand lost on him. The damage had already been done, and they both knew it.

“Perhaps you should stop taking these requests from Dino, if all of them put you in danger. If he needed to, he could hire proper hunters.”

“I don’t think hunters do gem runs.” Noctis held up the shiny piece, which resembled hard lemon candy.

“Kings don’t, either.”

The words made Noctis flinch, and Cor regretted giving him the subtle reminder of his father’s death and his new position. Even the other boys and Iris had yet to refer to him as anything but their prince.

“They help their people.”

“There are other ways to do that.” Despite his stern words, Cor couldn’t help but feel a smidgen proud of Noctis for the declaration. How like Regis this green boy could be. There had been a time when even Regis had been a _new_ king. It would take some time, but Noctis had the potential. 

Cor had to guide him without being too harsh. 

“We still have to deliver it,” said Ignis. “We might as well, since we went all the way to fetch it.”

The group made their way across the boardwalk, cut through the restaurant, and stepped out on to the boat dock. A man waited for them on a bench, looking carefree as if the world hadn’t been going to shit for—well, how old was the world? And this guy had to be no more than thirty. Cor immediately knew this had to be Dino.

“I see you’ve made it back.” A flashing smile that could bedazzle all who saw it. No wonder Noctis had had a hard time declining Dino’s requests. “Can I take a look?”

“Yeah.” Noctis handed over the first deposit before summoning the rest out of the armiger. 

Dino took out a cylindrical magnifying glass and appraised the mineral, humming contentedly after a while. 

“This is exactly what I needed,” said Dino. “Here, as a token of my thanks. Give it a try in battle and let me know if it helps you.” He handed over a piece of jewelry—the chain coiled up in Noctis’ palm, and Cor couldn’t tell if it was a bracelet or necklace. 

“We done?” asked Cor as he headed for the stairs.

“Wait!” Dino waved them over, grinning brightly. This guy was everything Cor had suspected he would be. Smarmy and smooth-talking, who didn’t worry about his dignity when he asked for favors.

“What is it now?” asked Cor.

“I know a location for sapphire,” said Dino, directing his hopeful gaze at Noctis. “It’s north of Burbost Souvenir Emporium, down the river. I’ll text the coordinates to you.”

“That’s all the way out in Cleigne.” 

“If you find yourself out that way, it would be a big help. I’ll give you another bracelet.” Dino paused, and when he spoke again, the sincerity in his voice caught Cor by surprise. “Let me know if that comes in handy. I don’t want to sell hunters a product that won’t protect ‘em.”

Noctis lifted the bracelet and slipped it onto his wrist before using the same hand to wave goodbye to Dino. The aspiring jeweler did not lift his head. He had already started further appraising his heliodor.

“Let’s camp tonight,” said Noctis as they made their way up the stairs. “The hotel rooms are too expensive.”

“That’s a wise idea,” said Ignis. “There’s a haven nearby.”

“And it’s close to the fishing spot.”

Cor liked the sound of camping out. The caravan would have been too crowded, and Noctis was right about the cost of the rooms at Galdin—they would need two for their large party, and someone would have to share a bed. 

Before he set up his tent, however, Cor needed a drink. He split away from the group and sat down at the bar, hoping to enjoy one beer as he watched the sun set.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The part where Noctis jumped down into the road is exactly how it played out the first time I saw that scene. :'D (Hey, I had no idea it wouldn't attack and thought maybe we weren't supposed to wake up the bird.)

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading, and feel free to let me know what you think!


End file.
